


On Being a Gentleman

by just_one_iota



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Animal Death, Gen, Post-Rescue from Thangorodrim, animal gore i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:55:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26032243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_one_iota/pseuds/just_one_iota
Summary: Learning the eating habits needed to survive in Angband is one thing. Unlearning them is a bit more difficult.(Maedhros and his bad table manners.)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 39





	On Being a Gentleman

"We must talk to His Majesty," the distressed healer hissed to her colleague. The tips of her ears were twitching, and several curls had broken free of her hairnet to hover in the air like little lightning bolts of anxiety. In her defence, her job was becoming more stressful by the day.

"My lady," her partner said, chewing his lip. His eyes flicked behind her. "Are you certain that conversing with him is wise?"

"I mean His Majesty King Makalaurë," she clarified exasperatedly. "He must know. His brother is-"

For the fourth time that week, the healing tent was disturbed by a rat streaking across the floor. With an angry yelp she went to snap up the broom; but before she could act, a bony hand snatched the rodent out of the air.

The theoretical High King of the Noldor was sitting on the ground, propped up on a pile of cushions and protected from the floor by only a blanket. Nelyafinwë Maitimo looked at the struggling rat in his hand with thoughtful consideration.

When he moved, he went from perfect stillness to sudden lightning-strike ferocity. He sunk his teeth into the rat's spine and with a jerk of his head and hand snapped the tiny neck in half.

The other healer squeaked with ill-hidden horror.

Blissfully unaware, Nelyafinwë lifted the body to his mouth. He fumbled to expose the belly and bit a section before trying to rip it off. To her disgust and slight terror, he succeeded. She watched him continue to munch his way into the rat.

She felt her colleague’s frozen shock as her own. They both stood struck dumb. Apparently noticing the horrified silence, Nelyafinwe looked up and blinked like a child trying to figure something out. Blood was smeared around his lips and strings of something unidentifiable were caught between his crooked teeth.

The three of them stayed frozen in the ludicrous, appalling scene.

She was desperately trying to think of what to do when sudden understanding passed over her (terrifying) patient’s face, and he blushed like a boy barely out of his fifties.

Nelyafinwë carefully placed what was left of the rat carcass down onto the ground. Its guts spilt out. Her stomach churned.

He reached for the bedsheets and wrapped the pristine white fabric around one finger to primly dab away the blood around his lips. With perfect manners, he fastidiously wiped his hand clean and attempted to fold the sheet corner like a napkin. He failed several times before eventually giving up with an even darker blush than before.

"My deepest apologies," Nelyafinwë Maitimo told the healers ruefully. "Please forgive my terrible eating habits; it has been long since I had fine food and fine company, and I have clearly forgotten how to comport myself. May I have a knife and fork?"

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry! I'm on tumblr at the-quiet-fire-of-defiance-is-me.tumblr.com


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